


Yesterday's Fire

by Westward



Series: Our Shadows [2]
Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Gen, M/M, Sequel, Slow Burn, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 11:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3380087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westward/pseuds/Westward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a fire raging inside of Nick, one that fueled his determination to survive. Ellis knew that, even back on the smoky rooftop of the Vannah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday's Fire

Ellis's first encounter with Nick was... cold, to say the least.

The roar of the helicopter’s rotating blades filled his ear as Ellis ran up the stairs. He stumbled as he raced towards the rooftop, his booted foot catching the edge of a step and he lost his balance. Ellis choked out a sound of surprise as he stuck his hands out to catch him. There was a sharp sting in his left palm, and the mechanic knew he had scratched the first few layers of his skin off. As he picked himself up, Ellis inspected the superfluous wound momentarily, forgetting that his last chance of evacuating Savannah was about to take off.

However, the man in the white suit behind him hadn’t.

“Get out of the way, Overalls!”

An angry voice startled Ellis out of his stupor. Ellis turned to look at the source of the angry voice, only to be shoved out of the way desperately. He stumbled into the stairwell’s cinderblock wall, rubbing his shoulder where the man had pushed him. Frowning in pain, Ellis caught sight of the white dress pants for a fleeting second before disappearing, only the echoes of his steps keeping Ellis company. He stood there, dumbfounded for a minute before realizing that the last set of helicopters was leaving in mere minutes.

With that in mind, Ellis forgot about his aching shoulder and the scratch on his hand, and continued is ascent. He hurried his pace. He had to get there on time; Keith and the others were already out of the city, and they were probably worried sick about him. Ellis didn't even want to think of the state his mother must have been in. If only he hadn’t stayed behind and locked up the shop like he had promised. If what they were saying on the news was right, then zombies wouldn’t…

Ellis only had a few floors left to climb, and the roaring of the helicopters grew louder with each step he took.  Only, it should have. But it didn’t sound like that when Ellis finally reached the top floor.

Ellis was blinded by the sun’s light as he forced the metal door to the roof open. The door creaked on its hinges before shutting again, behind him. Shielding his eyes with one hand resting on his forehead, Ellis searched through the sky. He looked for the last batch of helicopters and smiled momentarily. A flood of relief flooded over Ellis as he finally spotted them, thinking that they were about to arrive. But as the seconds ticked by, what he saw was enough to replace his relief with horror. His heart sank. 

They were  _leaving_.

“Come back! Come back!” A short woman with black hair done up into a ponytail and a pink T-shirt was shouting at the helicopters, watching in horror as the contraptions grew smaller. They were heading towards the horizon, to downtown Savannah where another designated evacuation center was located, easily a few hour’s walk from where they stood now. “Please, please _, please_ come back!”

Ellis quickly joined the woman, waving his arms around and shouting at the helicopters, hoping that one of the pilots would see them and turn around. His voice echoed off of the rooftop, bouncing back at him and the few others left behind. The roar of the rotary blades was soon replaced by the strong gusts of wind that whipped at them. The woman dropped her arms in defeat and brought her hands to her face, whispering small words to herself as she turned around and began pacing.

“This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not...”

“Aw, shit. They’re not coming back.” Another spoke up. Ellis turned to see a heavyset, African American man wearing a high school sports jersey that he barely recognized. Ellis couldn’t name which public school it belonged to, but it hadn't been his. The man was obviously a coach. The coach turned to the woman, and spotted Ellis as he finally lowered his arms in defeat. He paused, obviously thinking of what he should do. “Looks like we’re going to have to save ourselves, people.”

“Oh good. This is just how I wanted to spend my Wednesday, stranded on a burning building with complete strangers.”

The snarky remark turned the two heads of the strangers, as well as Ellis’s. There, leaning against a table with health kits, two crowbars, an axe, and a pistol, was the man in the white suit that had shoved Ellis aside in his desperation to get rescued. He was lighting up a cigarette as he starred at the horizon, squinting his blue eyes at the disappearing splotches that were helicopters. The man deposited his lighter into a pocket before picking up the pistol beside him. As the man in the white suit inspected the pistol’s clip, he frowned in disgust.

Whether it was disgust at being stranded on the hotel’s rooftop or the company the man now found himself with, Ellis couldn’t tell.

Ellis frowned as well, giving the man in the white suit a good onceover. He was older than Ellis, that much was obvious. And he was better off than the mechanic was, or would ever hope to be, judging by the state of the spotless white suit he was wearing and the amount of rings on his fingers. And the man certainly wasn’t the most cheerful person Ellis ever had the pleasure to meet.

“Oh, and you are..?” The woman asked, sounding unimpressed at the man’s irritated attitude. She had finally stopped her mantra, quickly recovering from her initial panic. 

“Who I am doesn’t matter, sweetheart. What does matter is how the hell am I going to get rescued out of this shithole?” The man said, completely ignoring the woman’s question. He puffed on his cigarette for a few seconds, dragging on the pause of the conversation before pushing off of the table and towards the rooftop’s edge. “I am not just going to sit here and wait to die. Where’s the closest evac center, other than this one?”

“It looks like those helicopters are heading towards the mall downtown. It’s not that far from here.”

It was the coach that answered, crossing his arms as he took a good look at the man in the white suit. Ellis could tell by the frown that tugged at the man's lips that he was concerned with the man’s attitude and how he carried himself. Something wasn't right about this man, and it wasn't because he was acting like an asshole. But still, the coach sighed and continued.

“We should be able to walk there if we work together.”

“Ooh, I know the mall you’re thinking of, mister coach man. There’s a gun store along the way." Ellis finally decided to speak up.

He remembered the gun store from a couple of months ago, named Whitaker's Gun Shop. He and Keith had stopped there to eye a pair of hunting rifles they had wanted for a while. They had been saving up for almost a year by now, and they would have had enough money in a couple of months if it hadn't been for the Green Flu and all. But as Ellis saw the small nods of agreement coming from the woman and the coach as they followed his thought process, the mechanic thought to himself _'Well, it looks like I'll be getting that hunting rifle anyways.'_

"If what they’re saying about zombies is correct..." Ellis started as he tugged on his baseball cap, a nervous habit he had had since he was babe in diapers. "I reckon we should get ourselves some proper weaponry to defend ourselves.”

“You  _reckon_ , Overalls? Christ, of all the places I could end up stranded, it had to be the South.” The man in the white suit spoke up again, frowning in anger or pessimism as he took the safety off of the pistol. He then whispered, “I wish I was in Vegas…”

Well that... hurt. Ellis was taken aback by the man's indirect insult, frowning as the words played over his mind a few times. Ellis shook his head, deciding to assume the man's antagonism towards him and the others was just a defensive mechanism to cope being left for dead. Ellis wouldn't let the man's words get to him; he needed to focus on getting out of here. He needed to find his mom and Keith, before they started to think that he had died. Or worse, turned into one of the monsters they saw on the news.

"We should probably leave now. I don't think its safe being on a burning building." The woman said as she made her way towards the table, picking up one of the crowbars in one hand, visually surprised by how much the object weighed, and a health kit in the other. She tied the straps of the health kit to her belt, and quickly tested it to see if it would fall off by tugging on the object.

"Well, at least it sounds like one of you has some common sense." The man in the white suit muttered to himself, but his words were still loud enough for Ellis to hear.

Ellis sighed silently before picking up the fire axe.

The four of them distributed the health kits evenly, it was easy since there were only four there, and then decided to brave the journey back down the stairs. Ellis wasn't sure what kind of hell waited for them down on the abandoned streets of Savannah; he had been lucky enough to avoid the Infected on his way into the city. But even then, he had had the radio on in his truck, and all stations had been broadcasting an emergency transmission, warning all citizens to avoid the populated parts of the city. However, it just so happened to be the route the four of them would have to take to make it to the mall in time. Savannah had fallen, and they had to hurry if they wanted to get rescued.

And as it turned out, they didn't have that far to go before running into a horde of zombies.

It had been Ellis who had opened up the first door to leading out of the stairwell, and he was met with the most horrific sight he would ever see. He was met with the sight of a stumbling woman, and Ellis initially thought it was another person that had arrived at the evacuation center too late. But then he saw the discolored grey skin, the glowing yellow eyes, and the blood stain that covered her mouth and neck. Ellis barely had a second to realize all this before noticing that there were more behind her.

The infected quickly realized that Ellis was not like itself, and let out a feral growl before sprinting towards him. Before Ellis could realize what he was doing, he swung the axe out in front of him, and off went the Infected's arm. It howled in pain for a seconds as blood squirted out of its flesh wound, but it didn't stop charging at Ellis. Ellis swung a second time, this time landing a blow to its chest, and the Infected finally fell, dead. 

Ellis knew he was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon. The ringing in his ears didn't help him, and it felt like all of time had just stopped around him, leaving him suspended in a world that was too still, too silent. He had just killed a person. That could have been someone he knew! The axe in his hands felt too heavy right then, and he almost dropped it. Maybe going to the gun store wasn't such a good idea after all...

He didn't have that much time to ponder over his actions however, as a couple more Infected came running towards him. Acting on instinct, Ellis readied his axe again and swung, aiming for the head. If all the movies and video games were correct, it was the headshot that counted. As soon as the axe made contact with the Infected's neck, the head popped off. Blood splattered everywhere, and Ellis grimaced as he felt a few warm drops land on his cheek and neck.

Ellis was about to swing at the next oncoming head when three shot went off to his left. The Infected fell unceremoniously, and Ellis turned to see that it had been the man in the white suit that had covered his blind spot. The man was wearing a determined frown, his eyebrows furrowed together as if he was particularly angry at the Infected. His blue eyes shifted to stare at Ellis, and he scowled, finally brining down his pistol.

Before Ellis could thank him, the man was scolding him as if he was a child who had been caught raiding the cookie jar before supper. "Watch your back, Overalls! Or else I might not be there the next time to watch it for you. And you're no good to me dead." 

And then the man in the white suit stepped forward, aiming his pistol with the ease of a skilled gunslinger, and finished the rest of the Infected within eyesight. Ellis just stood in place, watching the display dumbfounded. Ellis had just killed a person, and now a complete stranger was reprimanding him for not killing quicker. It just didn't sit well with him, and Ellis momentarily thought he was going to be sick.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder, and Ellis turned to see that it was the coach. He was frowning as he stared at the man in the white suit's back. The coach squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner before dropping his hand and turning to face Ellis.

"Pay no attention to him, son. You did fine, and we're all gonna have to learn to depend on each other if we're going to make it to that mall." The coach said.

"I just... I just killed two people." Ellis somehow managed to choke out. His voice sounded rough and cracked, as if he had just spent a few hours crying.

"No, you just killed two Infected. Zombies. They're not people anymore." The coach said, speaking as if he was trying convince himself as well. "Whatever this Flu's done to them, they're not the same as me and you anymore. You're doing them a service, saving them from their cruel fate. Think of it like that."

That made sense, and Ellis nodded his head in understanding. And then the mechanic followed the larger man down the hall where the other two were waiting for them. They’re not people anymore. _They're not people anymore._ Ellis repeated the other man's words in his head, and it helped give him strength as more attacked them, growling and shrieking at them like rabid, feral animals. It felt wrong that he was trying to desensitize himself, but he knew that it would be better for his mental health now than to keep believing he's becoming a murderer.

"Yeah, I always wanted to be an axe murderer." Ellis muttered to himself jokingly.

And that small joke actually helped. Talking helped. He just needed to talk. He needed to be himself, even if the world had gone mad.

And so Ellis talked. He tried to talk to the other three on their way to the elevators. For the most part, he told a few stories about his friends Keith and Dave. They never replied, but Ellis knew they were listening, so he continued until the man in the white suit told him to shut the hell up. The man's words stung at him again, but he obeyed and quieted down, only speaking up when an Infected came to close to someone. 

They finally reached the elevators, but all four of them were disappointed to find that they were out of service. It was probably for the best too, since Ellis could see smoke starting to rise out of the cracks. They would have to take the stairs down, which was becoming increasingly dangerous as the fire started to spread further.

"Looks like we're going to have to find another way down." The woman noted. "And fast. How long does it take for a building on fire to become structurally unsound?"

"Well, I don't want to stay here and find out. Come on, let's move." The man in the white suit stated before heading down a hallway before the others could respond.

Their path to the next set of stairs was perilous, to say the least. The four of them ended up having to walk the outside ledge of the hotel, where neither the fire nor the Infected could reach them. Ellis was just thankful that he wasn't scared of heights. The wind still threatened to push them off balance, and possibly off of the ledge altogether, but somehow the four of them managed to break a window and climb into a hotel room before too long. It was there that they made their first discovery.

"Is that a bottle of puke?" 

Ellis turned to see the man in the white suit holding a glass jar in his hands, a disgusted look on his usually angry face. The liquid in the jar was... unsettling to look at. It was neon green, and it didn't behave like water as the man tilted the jar to its side. It indeed looked like puke, and Ellis felt like he was going to puke himself just by looking at it.

"Here, let me see it." Ellis spoke up anyway, holding his hand out expectantly.

The man complied and placed the disturbingly warm bottle in his open palm. Ellis read the red writing on the bottle's sticker, all too aware of the hazard warning printed in orange ink. CEDA, "BOOMER EXCRETION". What the hell was a "Boomer"? Ellis had a feeling that he didn't want to know. Before he knew what he was doing, the mechanic started to twist the bottle's lid off, but stopped when he caught a whiff of the liquid's smell.

"Holy shit, what is that smell?!" The woman spoke up, holding her nose with one hand, giving her voice a nasally effect. "It's disgusting!"

"Put the lid back on, son." the coach ordered, his head turning towards the room's door. He frowned as he listened to the incessant banging of the Infected grew louder, and more desperate. "I think it's riling those zombies up."

Ellis nodded and screwed the lid without a word. As he did so, he got an idea. Clutching the "Boomer Excretion" tight in one hand, he ordered the others to watch his back as he opened the door. After a few mutterings about how crazy he must have been, they agreed. Ellis carefully opened the door, punched one of the Infected that had been banging on the door, and then threw the bottle towards the raging fire the group had just avoided.

Amazingly, the riled up Infected suddenly didn't pay any attention to the four of them. Instead of attacking them on sight, they all ran past the room they occupied and towards the inferno just down the hall. Ellis watched, dumbfounded as the Infected rain straight into the fire, and their screams and curdled calls of agony filled the air. Soon the massive horde of Infected that they would have had to fight through was gone, leaving only smoking corpses in their place.

"Wow." The man in the white suit was finally at a loss of words as he peered through the doorway. "Next bottle of puke we find, I call dibs on it."

"Ugh, I really hope there's not any more bottles of the stuff lying around." The woman said through a disgusted sigh.

"Why's that, sweetheart?"

"Because I don't want to find out what a 'Boomer' is. If there's a lot of jars of the stuff that CEDA just decided to leave behind in their haste to leave this place, that means that it's a common enough occurrence. There's probably going to be a lot of 'Boomers' wherever we're going."

"Shit, I hope you're wrong." The man sighed as he headed towards the staircase.

As it turned out, the woman was right, although she wasn’t particularly happy about it. They had only made it down one more floor before running into a large, bloated Infected. It had been waiting behind a closed door for them, and the four barely had any time to react before the bloated Infected started to spew an awful substance on them. The man in the white suit managed to avoid most of the spray, but Ellis and the others weren't so lucky.

Ellis was blinded by the disgusting substance, and judging by the cries of confusion from the other two, so were they. Ellis reacted before thinking, and he swung his axe into the bloated Infected's stomach, which erupted in a small explosion, and out spewed even more bodily secretions. The stuff smelled exactly like the stuff in the jar, much to the woman's dismay.  Soon a horde of raging zombies found them, and it took Ellis most of his energy to defend himself from them.

"Well, I guess we found our Boomer." The man in the white suit growled, sounding infuriated. As his sight finally returned to him, Ellis could see that the Boomer’s explosion had managed to cover the man's suit in the green substance. There were chunks of... something in the man's jelled back hair, and the man was quick to find a towel from one of the rooms to wipe most of the gunk out. And as the man wiped his face, Ellis could see the boiling rage in in the man's reddened cheeks. "God damn, I hate this place!"

“Sorry, that was my fault.” Ellis said, willing to own up to his mistake.

“You’re god damn right it is, Overalls!” And then the man hurried his pace down the hall, looking for a working elevator they could use.

It was then that Ellis started to wonder why the man in the white suit, which he later learned was named Nick when they finally found a working elevator, was always so angry. There was a fire burning in him, and it fueled his rage and pessimism to no end. Perhaps he was more similar to Ellis than he originally thought. While Ellis was finding comfort in talking, Nick found his in his anger and insults. Where Ellis tried his hardest to be happy and to cheer the others up, Nick preferred insults and violence.

Perhaps it was just how Nick coped. Ellis could respect that, even if his words did hurt him.

* * *

They first learned that they could kill the big monstrosities, which they quickly nicknamed Tanks, faster if they set it was on fire in the Atrium of the mall.

They had ran into their first "Tank" just before Whitaker's Gun Shop, and they quickly learned how hard of a punch the huge, mutated Infected could throw. It had managed to hit Coach as they turned the corner towards the walkway overpass above the deserted highway, and it sent him flying. The hit had managed to knock the large man unconscious, and Ellis had been convinced it had also cracked a rib or two, judging by how hard Coach was breathing.

The one good thing about the Tank happening when it did, was that it forced the four of them to work together in a way that they hadn't been. Before, they were unorganized, rarely calling out whenever they saw a "Special", or one of the more dangerous Infected that deviated from most. They wouldn't share any of the supplies they found, hoarding it for themselves. And there had been a serious power struggle between Coach and Nick.

But as soon as Coach was out for the count, Ellis, Rochelle, and Nick realized the seriousness of the situation they were in, all while the Tank was howling in anger as it waddled towards them.  The three found a rhythm that worked well, and soon they were a well-oiled machine. Somehow, under Nick's shoddy commands, the three had managed to kill the beast, but not without a few injuries in their party.

But Nick had almost cracked under the pressure. Judging by the stressed expression on his face, if Ellis ignored the large gash on the man’s forehead that was still bleeding profusely, he knew that Nick wasn't leader material. And somehow Nick knew as well. 

After making sure the ugly beast was actually dead, Ellis and Nick had then proceeded to carry Coach the rest of the way to Whitaker's Gun Shop. They spent over an hour in the safety of the gun shop before Coach finally came to. Even though he had suffered his own injuries, Coach was more concerned of the others. The larger man gave the others a quick onceover, making sure they were all bandaged up to his standards. Once Coach was content with their bandages, they continued on their way. After arming up and getting Whitaker his Cola, of course.

And the group of survivors didn't run into another Tank until after they realized that CEDA had already abandoned the mall. They were going to have to save themselves. An idea which had deflated Ellis; how could he ever get back to his family? He didn’t want to die alone, without them.

But it seemed to have the opposite effect on Nick.

“We gotta get out of here. That map back at the _Vannah_ , New Orleans should still be standing.” Nick said as he cleaned the assault rifle in his hands.

The four of them had found a Safe House in the abandoned mall, where they decided to eat dinner before figuring out what their game plan was. Nick was sitting on one of the cardboard boxes someone had piled up into the corner, and the kerosene lamp above him was bright enough to illuminate the entire room. Ellis and Rochelle had been hard at work warming up a can of beans on a makeshift stove they had crudely constructed, and the two turned their heads to face the man.

Coach, who had been working on distributing their ammo supply evenly, was the one to answer him. “If you have any ideas Nick, I’m all ears.”

“My _idea_ is to get out of this mall. As soon as possible.” Nick said as he quickly slapped the safety on his gun back on. He then swung the gun’s strap around his shoulder and tugged on it until the assault rifle was hugging his back. “We need to find a working car, hotwire it, and get the hell out of Savannah while it’s still light out. I don’t want to be stuck in this city when it’s dark out.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Nicholas. But you’re forgetting that any law abiding man shouldn’t know how to hotwire a car.” Coach stated, chuckling a bit at the oddity of Nick’s suggestion, before continuing to sort out the ammo.

Ellis himself chuckled. He couldn’t deny it though, he knew how to hotwire a car, but that was because cars were his _life_. Sometimes when a customer left their vehicle at the auto shop, they would forget to leave him and Keith a set of keys, and the two of them had to get creative. Later, when they had done the needed work on the vehicle, Ellis would fix the damage he did to the car, free of charge of course. But he had never used his knowledge unless it was absolutely necessary.

But Nick wasn’t laughing. He was glaring at both Ellis and Coach as if they had just insulted his mother. The man’s hands, which had been busy cleaning the pistol with the ease of someone who did it regularly, were now still. An uneasy silence washed over the group, and now all eyes were on Nick. Soon, Ellis’s brain made the connection.

“No, don’t tell me.” It was Rochelle who spoke up first, having come to the same conclusion Ellis made. “You’re a petty criminal.”

“Petty? No. That’s an insult to me and my trade. _I,_ am a con artist.” Nick said as he finally stood up from his seat on the cardboard box. He made his way over to Coach and quickly grabbed his own supply of ammo. He pocketed the clips in his white suit jacket, and then patted the jacket's pocket protectively. “Does it matter what I do for a living? The important thing is that I can get us out of here.”

Judging by the silence after his last statement, Coach and Rochelle thought that it _did_ matter. Ellis quickly glanced at Rochelle’s face, and saw the distrust in her eyes. How could she trust a criminal? A conman at that, someone that made a living weaving lies and deceiving people right from under their noses? Ellis didn’t know that answer to that, but he did realize that he had to speak up and defend Nick if they were going to continue working together. The only way they would make it to New Orleans was if they _did_ work together.

Hell, what they accomplished so far today was done by their trust of one another. They wouldn’t survive much longer if that trust was severed.

Ellis quickly stood up and spoke before Coach or Rochelle said something that would have alienated Nick further. “I don’t really care what you did before this all happened, I still trust you Nick. What’s important now is that we have to work together to get out of this mall.”

“Thanks for the cheesy supportive quote, Ellis. I _really_ appreciate it.” Was Nick’s sarcastic remark. “But what Overalls is saying is right; you can hate me _after_ we’ve been rescued.”

That seemed to sit well with the others. For the meantime at least. Ellis frowned to himself and then went back to work, stirring the beans with a little more force.

After the four of them ate, they were ready to leave again. Soon, the four of them found themselves in the atrium of the mall, which had been under renovations when the Green Flu had hit. Parts of the place had been blocked off, and Ellis hoped to God that the mall hadn’t closed its front doors with metal bars. He doubted even his fire axe could break those in half.

The elevator to the ground floor was just up ahead. The four survivors piled into the elevator and Coach pressed the down button without a word. The ride down to the ground floor felt like it took forever, and Ellis was getting restless with worry. He couldn’t get his mother out of his mind. He was the only one left in her life, and she had begged him not to stay behind during the initial evacuation. How long would it take her to know that he was left behind and…

And… and…

Oh.

_Holy._

_Shit._

Were his eyes deceiving him?

No. No they were not.

“Oh my god. That’s Jimmy Gibbs Jr.’s stock car.” Ellis said aloud, loosening his hold on the sniper rifle in his hands as he stumbled toward the glass wall. He pressed his hands on the glass, feeling the cool material against his skin. Ellis was in awe at the sight, and he could feel someone stepping towards his left. Ellis glanced over his shoulder and saw that it was Coach, who looked just as astounded as he felt. “Why the hell is Jimmy Gibbs Jr.’s stock car doing here?!”

“You didn’t see the posters?” Rochelle asked. “They were everywhere. The dude was supposed to be here, if it wasn’t for the Green Flu. You could have gotten your picture taken with him.”

“Aw man, I hate this apocalypse!” Ellis muttered.

“If I see a Jimmy Gibbs zombie, somebody else is gonna have to kill it.” Coach said, nodding in agreement with Ellis.

“Is that him?” Nick pointed to the large banner behind the stock car. There, printed on the banner, was the legend himself. Ellis nodded, and Nick glared at the banner, unimpressed. “He looks like an asshole.”

“Aw, Shut up Nick.” Coach retorted, sounding offended.

And soon the two men were arguing with each other, insults thrown at each other like a volley ball match. Rochelle groaned and shook her head, proving to be the most mature one of the group. Ellis’s attention, however, was still planted on the stock car that was ever so growing closer. The mechanic tuned out the others as a thought formed in his head.

“Ooh, I have an idea.” Ellis said, stopping their bickering in its tracks. “Why don’t we take the _stock car_. We can drive that all the way to New Orleans!”

Nick raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical of the plan. “Anyone else have a better idea?”

“Nope.”

“No.”

“Well, alright then.” Nick said with a sigh. “Let’s go steal ourselves a stock car.”

“Now remember, they don’t fill these things up. So we’re gonna have to find ourselves some gas…”

And that was their plan. Ellis felt pretty damn smart for figuring it out. Hell, he thought he should be the one to drive the stock car after coming up with the idea in the first place. But in order to get out of the mall, they had to find fuel.

After the elevator finally opened, they split up into pairs. Ellis went with Rochelle, and Coach with Nick, since the two natives of Savannah knew their way through this mall like the back of their hands. Fortunately for them, there seemed to be an abundance of gas tanks that CEDA left behind in their hurry to leave, as well as medical supplies that they would need down the road. As Ellis poured the first couple tanks of gas the two of them found, Rochelle packed the supplies in the trunk.

“Hey, Overalls!” Nick’s voice rang through the atrium, and Ellis looked up to see the man’s head poking over the railing of the third floor. “Catch!”

And then the conman tossed an orange colored tank of gas. Ellis caught it easily enough, and he smiled at Nick before the man tossed another over the side. Rochelle managed to catch that one, and then set it down. The mechanic yelled up in thanks before filling up the car’s tank once again. This process worked for a little while longer, until the Infected had caught their scent.

One minute, the four survivors were alone in the atrium. The next, Ellis could hear the roars of the incoming Infected. Ellis paused in his work and looked at Rochelle, who had already brought up her gun, ready to shoot at anything that moved. Ro, while inexperienced at firearms, was a quick learner. Ellis had promised to show her some tips as soon as they left Savannah, and the woman readily agreed to the idea.

“Get ready.” The woman said, frowning as she looked down her sights. “There’s a horde coming.”

Ellis nodded and finished with his tank of gas before grabbing his sniper rifle. The horde came within seconds after that, nearly catching both him and Rochelle by surprise. The two managed to hold back the Infected long enough for Coach and Nick to catch up to them, their hands full of gas tanks. However, they had to drop them as the horde changed tactics and moved to advance on them.

It didn’t help that there was a Charger lurking around in the atrium as well; Ellis could hear the creature’s distorted grunts, but couldn’t pinpoint where they originated from. The thing was lurking in the background, looking for an opening. Chargers were bad news.

“Charger!” Ellis shouted nonetheless.

The other three gave no sign having heard him, but continued cutting down the horde of raging Infected. The Infected’s true strength lay with their numbers, as the four of them quickly learned, and the horde was slowly whittled down until nothing was left but a pile of diseased corpses and a blood stained floor. There was no sign of the Charger; it had either left or was killed by a stray bullet, and the memory of it disappeared from their minds. They had other things to worry about.

Without any words passed between them, the four were allowed to continue on with their task. As Coach and Nick prepared to head back upstairs, Ellis grabbed the nearest gas tank and made his way back to the stock car. Just as he was about to tip the container over and into the stock car’s tank, he felt it.

The ground beneath him was shuddering. 

Ellis froze and instantly made eye contact with Rochelle. She was wearing her own expression of fear, and Ellis knew that she felt it too. Before Ellis could comprehend what was happening, the woman opened her mouth and shouted.

“Tank! We got a Tank!”

Her scream was met with the savage roar of said Infected. The two turned their heads towards the highest atrium floor, where they saw a door fly off of its hinges, and the metal clattered as it hit the ground floor. Soon, the beast was climbing down towards Ellis and Rochelle, howling as it finally spotted the two of them. Both Ellis and Rochelle took a few steps back, forgetting about the gas tanks, and then ran to find Coach and Nick. They had no hope for taking it down by themselves.

And so they ran up the stairs, desperately trying to ready their weapons as the Tank stumbled behind them.  Ellis briefly spotted Nick’s white suit as he climbed up the stairs, over on the other side of the floor, towards’ the large store windows. Ellis called out to him, hoping to catch their attention in case the two men hadn’t heard the Tank and their cries of panic. Nick stopped in his tracks, and stared at Ellis and Ro, instantly raising his assault rifle. There was no hint of fear on the man’s face.

Bullets ripped from the gun, and the Tank grunted in pain as it smacked a wooden bench out of the way. The object smashed through the glass railing before tumbling down to the ground. It narrowly missed the stock car. Ellis turned around and fired his own weapon, trying his best not to fall as he ran backwards. Rochelle did her best to do the same. It was only when they had finally caught up to Coach did the woman fully turn around, confident enough to fire blindly at the Tank.

“How much gas does the car need?!” Coach shouted over the roar of gunfire.

“Four more tanks ought to do it!” Ellis guessed, actually having no idea. The car would run just fine with the gas they had, but they wouldn’t get very far on only half a tank of gas.

“I _really_ hope that we won’t run into four more Tanks before be leave.” Rochelle stated, misinterpreting Ellis’s words.

Ellis chuckled, despite the raging Infected that was still chasing after his ass. “Wrong kind of tank, Rochelle.”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this.” Rochelle sighed heavily. She then shouted, her voice somehow carrying over the roar of gunfire and the Tank’s brutish growls. “We could use some help over here, Nicholas!”

“I’m on my w—”

Ellis barely caught sight of the Charger that had managed to grab Nick, forcing the man to drop the gas tank in his hand, and carry him far away from them. If it wasn’t for the man’s white suit, Ellis surely wouldn’t have been able to see it while focusing most of his attention on the Tank in front of him. But fortunately Ellis _had_ seen it, and he called out to Coach and Rochelle.

“Charger’s got Nick! Cover me!” Ellis informed, and he quickly turned away from the Tank and ran towards Nick’s direction.

Somehow Ellis had found Nick before too much damage was done to him, with the only exception being the conman's ego. A few well-placed shots with his sniper rifle, and the Charger fell, finally letting go of its death grip on Nick. Nick couched as he tried to stand up, and Ellis was concerned when he saw a few splotches of blood at the edges of Nick’s mouth. However, he kept quiet as he helped Nick up, surprised by how the man’s obvious pain was fueling his anger.

“I am _sick_ and _tired_ of this god damn mall!” Nick spewed furiously between coughs, limping towards the still standing Tank, completely ignoring Ellis and the fact that he had just possibly saved his life. Ellis almost offered to help Nick by picking up his abandoned assault rifle, but watched in complete surprise as Nick instead bent over for the random Molotov by his side. With his free hand, Nick reached inside his jacket’s pocket and plucked out his lighter. “Rot in hell, you stupid ass-clown!”

And before Ellis could express his confusion, Nick threw the flaming Molotov. In a perfect arc, it landed right at the Tank’s feet. The glass bottle shattered, and flames spilled like waves from a tsunami. The Tank was soon covered in dancing, bright orange flames as its rotting skin caught on fire. It screamed in agony as confusion over took it. Soon, the Tank stumbled, its advancement on Rochelle and Coach faltering.

By the time that Nick and Ellis arrived at the other survivors’ sides, the Tank was dead, surrounded in the dying embers. Ro and Coach were staring at the corpse of the Tank in awed silence, amazed at the damage the Molotov did against the Tank. Ellis soon joined them, surprised to see how quickly the beast had fallen compared to their last encounter with one. Molotovs would definitely be useful if they ever ran into a Tank again. Good thing he knew how to make them then.

Nick didn’t stop however, and walked through the remaining wisps of fire emanating from the fallen rotten flesh, limping towards the stairs. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one up as he continued to limp. Nick only paused when he noticed the others weren’t following him, and he puffed on his cigarette in annoyance.

“Well, are we leaving this place or what?”

That statement knocked Ellis out of his stupor, and he nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. We should already have enough gas tanks down by the car.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”


End file.
